


In this Solitude

by MatildaSwan



Series: Stolen Moments [1]
Category: Thick of It (UK)
Genre: Adultery, Backstory, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:08:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatildaSwan/pseuds/MatildaSwan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gleam in his eyes both thrilling and terrifying: an animal stalking prey. Rather than reply, she giggled and kissed him.</p><p> </p><p>[Slight editing, now part of a series]</p>
            </blockquote>





	In this Solitude

**Author's Note:**

> Flashbacks prior to 3x06/07
> 
> kinkbingo: wet messy dirty, a_writing_muse: length.

_“Give me a second while I look up my little file of things I really don’t give a fuck about. And here were have under the letter ‘N’: nail bomb in gold clubs, there is, er, the National Trust; there is Newcastle, Nicola Murray! Yes, she’s still there.”_

He was hard against her thigh as she panted into his shoulder: gasping for air, his fingers deep within her. She moaned, nerves quivering as Malcolm spilled filth into her ear.

“So wet, Nicola, so fucking wet! Dripping, you are, and hot; Jesus, fuck you’d feel amazing around my cock, hot and tight. Is that what you want, me buried inside you? That’s what you want, isn’t it? Me balls deep in that sweet cunt of yours for hours at a time.”

Her whole boy was on fire, arms flailing wildly, searching for something to grab onto, anything to ground her: keep her bones inside her body, stop her exploding. One hand found his hair and pulled, his grunt reverberating through her body.

“Come on my fingers, Nicola,” whispered into the shell of her ear. His arm wrapped around her waist; drawing her deeper, pulling her higher. “I want to feel you.”

Heat burst through her body, her head fell back and she was coming hard and _loud._ “Jesus fucking Christ!” she yelled as her toes curled and he didn’t stop, thumb still on her clit. “Fucking, God,” his mouth found a nipple and sucked. “Fuck!” she was still coming, raking her nails down his back. She couldn’t stop moaning, couldn’t feel her legs anymore. His hand wove itself through her curls and he pulled. She arched her back with a grunt and she was still coming and something snapped inside her. Her entire body pulsed, warmth gushed down her thighs. “Fuck, Malcolm!” she screamed, the sheets soaking through: everything was the blur and she was still coming. “Stop, God. I can’t, no more,” she begged, gasping and moaning.

“That’s a good girl,” Malcolm nuzzled the side of her neck and his hand relaxed, still quivering around his fingers as she sunk slowly back to earth. Her body was too small for her now, aching and sore and wet. She looked down at his hand still inside her and the wet patch she was swimming in and blushed. “God, Nicola; you’re fucking exquisite,” the gleam in his eyes both thrilling and terrifying: an animal stalking prey.

Rather than reply, she giggled and kissed him.

_“You’re not in a position to give me anything.”_

She sighed as she sank down onto his length: throaty and guttural, relishing the stretch, the intensity of being filled. He was hard and warm  and so fucking perfect. His hands found her hips, encouraging her to move, “Please, Nic'la.”

She shifted slightly and he bucked up into her before her hand forced him back into the bed. She clenched around him, still teasing, and smiled down at him. His eyes glazed over as he barred his teeth, savage and exhilarating. He lurched forward, grabbed her by the waist and flipped her onto her back; legs in the air, still filling her. She laughed as she blew hair from her eyes, giggle turning into a gasp as he started pounding into her.

“You fucking tease, you just wanted to see me beg, didn’t you? Wanted to hear me beg you to move: to ride me hard, to fuck yourself on me till you come, that’s what you fucking wanted, wasn’t it? Two can play at that game, _sweetheart._ I can make you beg too.” Nicola groaned at his voice in her ear, panting as it he thrust into her; ankles around her ears and delicious friction sending floods of heat through her body.

He did this to her, his voice, his words; made her gasp and moan and clench around him. She pushed against the bed frame, trying to stop the top of her head smacking against the bars; trying to force him deeper inside her. Her voice hitch as she begged for more, “God…fu-ck; harder, please, Malcolm!”

“You want more? Want it a bit rough, do you? Fuck you raw till you’ve come so hard you can’t see, come so many times you can’t remember your own name. You’d like that wouldn’t you? Filthy woman,” reverence in his tone as his finger found her clit. She sobbed, not enough oxygen in her lungs and too many sensations and it was fucking _marvellous._

Her hand raked down his back and he whimpered into her shoulder. Her legs were shaking now, she was close, “Yes, God, please Malcolm!” She felt his feral smile on her neck and he ran his teeth across her collarbone. She came, hard and fast and blinding; still spasming as he flipped her back onto her knees.

“Come for me, Nicola; fucking come for me again.” She tightened her grip on the bed head and arched her back, crying out as his hand cracked down on her arse. She shuddered, still hair trigger sensitive. “That’s my girl, be a good girl would you,” she unravelled to the sound of his voice. The pillow swallowed her scream, moans echoing through the confines of her body, still quivering around Malcolm till he came with a hoarse shout and a flurry of profanities.

_“You’ve always fucking got something to say!”_

They lay curled around one another, seeking heat under the thin sheet as their breathing slowed. Blankets and pillows littered the floor surrounding the bed, and one of the lamps had rolled into the wall. Nicola had managed to kick it off the side table in a particularly interesting display of her yoga skills.

“This can’t happen again,” she mumbled into his shoulder, breaking the silence of entangled limbs and drying sweat. Malcolm inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring and said nothing. Minutes passed and neither spoke.

“Malcolm?” so quiet and unsure, her voice held the threat of breaking. “We can’t happen again.”

“You sure do choose shit times to open your mouth, Nicola,” he huffed, pecking the top of her head. “Can’t we just enjoy this right now?” She nodded into his chest, sliding her knee up his thigh, wrapping her leg through his. He shuffled down the bed slightly, tightening the embrace, drawing her closer as they sank further into the mattress.


End file.
